Saint Etienne - Good Humor (LP) - Green Transparent w/ Dark Green & White Splatter Vinyl

Saint Etienne’s Good Humor arrived in 1998 like a well cut suit after a decade of baggy club nights. The trio had built their name on sample mosaics and crate‑digging romance, but here they decamped to Malmö and cut the record at Tambourine Studios with producer Tore Johansson. If that name rings a bell, it should. He helped shape The Cardigans’ warm, glassy pop, and you can hear that same clean Scandinavian air all over Good Humor. The result is leaner and more organic than Foxbase Alpha or So Tough, yet it still feels unmistakably Saint Etienne, with Sarah Cracknell’s vocals gliding through each song like soft light on a winter afternoon.

Wood Cabin opens the album with a hush. No fuss, no gimmicks, just a patient groove, chiming guitar, and strings that ease in as if they have all the time in the world. It sets the tone. The band were aiming for songs that breathe, and Johansson’s ear for space lets the arrangements shimmer without crowding the melody. When Sylvie kicks in, you can feel why it became a fan favourite. The verses are playful and conversational, the chorus lifts with a gentle inevitability, and the rhythm section keeps things buoyant. It is pop as architecture, pieces placed with care, no wasted moves.

The Bad Photographer follows with a cheeky narrative and that agreeable snap in the drums. It is one of those Saint Etienne tricks, a sly lyric wrapped in something you could hum on the tram. Lose That Girl tilts toward sunshine, all handclaps and breezy harmonies, but the performance is tight, not throwaway. The Malmö players that Johansson pulled in give these tracks a lived‑in swing. You can hear real room tone, real cymbals, real strings. After years of hearing Saint Etienne celebrated for the way they chopped and looped obscure records, it is a joy to catch them thriving in a live room.

Part of the charm is how they manage a clean break from the early sample era without torching what made them special. Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs still lace these songs with references and a crate‑digger’s sense of history, only now the nods sit inside the writing rather than the hard edges of a loop. There is a 60s baroque pop flavour to several arrangements, but nothing feels like retro cosplay. The production is bright, with that Scandinavian clarity, yet the mood stays tender. Put on Split Screen late at night and you get that same St Etienne hush, a city‑at‑dawn feeling they have chased since their first singles.

It helped that the band took themselves out of London for the sessions. In interviews around the time, they talked about wanting fewer sample clearances and more songs they could play end to end. Malmö gave them a reset. You can hear it in the confidence of the sequencing, in how the album flows as a proper set rather than a pile of singles. Even deep cuts fold into the whole with a sure hand. Nothing shouts for attention, which is why you keep returning. Good Humor is a grower, and then one day you realise it has become the one you reach for.

Back in 1998 the record drew strong notices for its polish and its tunes, and it has aged well. If you came in via Words and Music or the early Heavenly singles, this is the bridge that makes the catalogue make sense. It is also one of the best sounding Saint Etienne vinyl pressings out there. The top end is crisp, the bass sits warm rather than boomy, and the strings have that airy lift that digital versions often flatten. If you see Good Humor vinyl on the wall of a Melbourne record store, grab it before someone else does. Saint Etienne albums on vinyl have a way of disappearing from the bins, and this one invites repeat spins.

For those hunting from home, it is an easy recommendation to buy Saint Etienne records online. The group’s discography rewards a shelf run, and Good Humor sits right in the sweet spot between their club roots and their later widescreen pop. In a world full of algorithms and noise, this album still sounds like three people with great taste making careful choices. It is tidy but not sterile, sweet but not cloying, and it leaves room for you to live inside it. That is the trick they have chased since day one, and here they nail it. If you care about vinyl records Australia wide and you want a record that makes your system sing without shouting, this is the Saint Etienne vinyl to beat.